


The Wisp Sings

by kyojinouji



Series: The Earth We Lost [2]
Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band), ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Angst, Changeling! Chan, Child Abuse, Elf! Hongjoong, Elf! Jun, Elf! Maddox, Fae & Fairies, Graphic Violence, Hyter Sprite! Byeongkwan, I'm sorry I only know how to write angst, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, Puca! Seonghwa, Selkie! Donghun, Slow Burn, Will O'Wisp! Sehyoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:21:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24245701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyojinouji/pseuds/kyojinouji
Summary: There is always hope after tragedy.Ripped from his family, Sehyoon is thrust into the vicious underbelly of the Tír na nÓg. Faithless and alone, he struggles daily to survive until a shining light finally presents itself in his time of darkness. Fae may be ruthless, but at least they cannot lie in cold blood.Sehyoon's backstory and perspective of the events leading up to and following, "Who Will Breathe the Earth We Lost?". This can be read separately, however, it will make more sense if read after WWBTEWL.
Relationships: Kang Yuchan | Chan/Lee Donghun/Park Junhee | Jun, Kim Byeongkwan/Kim Sehyoon | Wow, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Series: The Earth We Lost [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750036
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. The Wisp Sings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my Choicetiny readers that wanted more A.C.E. This was supposed to be a one shot, but I wanted to break it up into 3 moments over the timeline.
> 
> TW: Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Violence

> _“This is the murmur of the land._
> 
> _This is the sound of love's marching band._
> 
> _And how they hold you like a gun._
> 
> _And how I sing you like a song_
> 
> _I heard when I was young_
> 
> _and buried for a night like this._
> 
> **_The Wisp Sings_** _\- Winter Aid_
> 
> * * *

_What is the melody that your heart sings into the night?_

Meadows and stolen kisses among the dew spilt daisies was unbecoming of a royal guard. The hushed tones of guarantees to balance their lives alongside that of their charges. It was fear that laced their veins when the first of the brothers disappeared. It was sorrow that came with looking upon the redheaded Fae as he asked for the upteenth time where his brother could have possibly been spirited away to. 

It was their kind that did the thievery. Their kind that stole children from their beds in the dead of night and whispered promises of a better future. A paradise without judgement, a place of forgiveness, a home to those lost among adult dreams and unfiltered youth; and that could not have been more far from the truth. It was their kind that knew how to lie subtly, without ever actually telling an untruth. They knew how to bend the rules. So, what was a little bit more?

The Tír na nÓg was never a place of honesty. However, the Kim line did everything in their power to make Avalon as close to one as they could. Sehyoon’s earliest memory was being pulled into a moving cart, covered from the blazing afternoon sun by embroidered curtains, and stuffed with a gag. He remembers the feeling of the thick cloth as his tiny fingers scrambled to pull it from his mouth. He remembers the way the rope wrapped around his thin wrists and glued them to his back where they could not be used. He especially remembers the cold, iron bars of the cage as the humans threw him into it. 

“The wingless kind don’t go for much,” The filth-covered one said. His beard lacquered with grease and grime; braided in places and matted in others. “Pretty little thing, though. Could serve a nice whore house.” His laugh was as gruff as his gravelly voice. Even as his clear blue eyes peered between the metal bars, he grew less human by the minute. Real humans, the ones Sehyoon knew, would never kidnap a child. They would never gag and bind something that could not fight back. 

He struggled against the ropes for as long as his body allowed. The constant strain grew painful, dull and achy, but he did not stop until his muscles began to cry. His kind had a phrase for their treatment; “iron wrung”. They were merciless beasts without a cause for concern in their lives. Poachers that were willing to destroy the beautiful, dainty things in life for a portion of coin. Like iron, they were toxic to the Fae. They entered the Tír na nÓg like poison in the water mains; spilling through their territory with only the single goal to shatter youth. 

Sehyoon did not feel the ropes by the time his wrists were raw from their abuse. He did not feel the way slumber covered his eyes with its tender embrace. He did not notice the chill of the metal cage burdening his limbs. Sehyoon chose not to feel anything at all. 

Auction systems worked in a simple manner. The goods were displayed in the square of a podunk village; one without a proper government. Each one was analyzed brutally; pushed and pulled along the cobblestone pathways. For the inanimate, there was a need to be gentle, but the living would heal. Maybe not well, nor quickly, but the bruises would vanish and the scrapes would mend. Sehyoon, under his breath, sang a quiet song as the men threw him in the cage after each auction. There were bidders, dozens, but none that offered as much money as the poachers wanted.

The greasy one, named Jatue, was despicable in every way. On the nights when Sehyoon’s stomach threatened to spill its contents to the world, Jatue dumped peppermint brew down his throat. In the mornings, when he could not handle the texture of stale bread, the man would pin him to the bars of the iron cage and force him to chew. At some point, he gave in. He let the humans manhandle him until his body was nothing more than a fleshy cell holding his spirit. As a Will O’ Wisp, his kind was talented at teleporting. However, the iron creation around him limited his ability to do anything more than fizzle and puff. It was a waste of energy. A waste of the only thing he had left to his own soul. Maybe that was why the afternoons where they tore him from the cage and cast him onto the stone squares of towns he could never name nor recognize, he did not feel sorrow. Instead, he felt desire. A drive to end up anywhere but the grasp of a greedy gang of humans out for payment and no more. 

The prize of his life came to a mere 37 sapphire-laid coins and a handful of gold. Jatue pressed a wet smooch on Sehyoon’s forehead, content with the prize he so seemingly won, and pushed him towards his buys. The women who purchased him immediately removed the binds wrapped around his legs and wrists once they were out of sight. She pulled him tightly to her chest and whispered somber promises of a bath and medical treatment for the rope burns. And, God, she smelled of sage and citrus.

Her name was Reiga, a widow with three late children. She was a human changeling; her parents bargained for something greater than she, but lost it all spectacularly. The Fae her family had made a deal with did not approve of the treatment of the human girl. Rather than gifting them anything of talent, the Fae chose to revoke it all; the possibility and the promise. Reiga was raised by the elves that collected her. Never once did she long for the mortal realm.

Sehyoon did not wish for anything, yet Reiga gave him all. She was a small-scale herbalist with a talent for scrying. At the edge of a dairy village known as Kwitae, she ran a shop for both fortune-telling and medicinal remedies. It was a pleasure to serve the town. Sehyoon, blessed to have been adopted into Reiga’s life, was raised as an apprentice.

“Not too much lavender, dearest,” Reiga laughed, watching the dried herb tumble into the boiling cauldron. “It does not make well as a balm when over saturated.” She cast him a soft and sweet smile, like peach nectar in a sugared honey. “If you were aiming for soup, however, you would have been on the perfect path.” 

Sehyoon giggled, adjusting the measurements with a quick flick of his wrist. Early mornings had become his favorite since Reiga brought him home. The two spent hours fumbling around the shop, preparing for the day, and would always find time to grab breakfast just before flipping the sign to ‘open’. As she slid a plate of toasted bread slathered with orange marmalade in front of him, she winked. 

“You’re still growing, you know.”

“I’m thirteen,” He laughed, biting into the sugary syrup. “Of course I’m still growing, Reiga.” His voice never had been able to carry far. Even before the poachers had taken control of his life, it had been nearly impossible to speak above a soft whisper. “Do you mind if I run to the fresh market? I heard Tanje brought back apples from Avalon’s orchards. I thought I could grab us some for a pie.” Reiga smiled at the offer. 

“Of course, Sehyoon. You know you don’t have to ask.” As he shoved the leftover bread into his mouth, he nodded frantically. He was not a captive in Reiga’s care. His soul, his desires, were all his own. Scampering to the door, he turned to salute in her direction, only to catch her bright grin. “Don’t wisp there, love. The last thing Tanje needs is you startling him enough that he bruises his entire haul.” Wisping. It was their personal term for his teleportation, and frankly, he wouldn’t have it any other way. He threw on his boots and darted out the door before Reiga could lecture him about grabbing a shawl. 

He regretted it quite quickly. A storm was rolling in above the village. The air had a subtle bite that refused to unlatch from his skin. The light, silk tunic he pulled on was far from warm enough. However, it would only be a jaunt down and back from the square; an hour tops. The stone underfoot had made him move with agile hops and leaps. The soles of his boots, for the first time in his life, were thick enough to avoid the prodding of the pointed rocks, but some part of him had missed the feeling. It reminded him that he was alive and free. 

The marketplace has not been packed in the slightest. Possibly, the approaching storm had scared all potential buyers away. For Sehyoon, though, it did not matter. It meant there was a larger selection of Tanje’s harvest available in the wooden crates the man had set up at his stand. With the apples settled in the wicker basket the merchant lent him, Sehyoon wandered just out of sight with a soft wave. 

“Tell Reiga that I want the basket back, Sehyoon,” Tanje called after him with an impish grin. “You know how she is about collecting new containers.” And it was true. His adoptive mother had gathered a variety of boxes and bins from the merchants. She always found a way to repurpose them, of course, but over the three years of living with her, Sehyoon had rarely seen her return them.

Beyond the treeline, he knew that it was safe to wisp back to the shop. As the sky opened up to spit down on him, Sehyoon focused on transporting his body home. A glance in the direction of their cabin, however, shot a startling image into his mind. High above the pinetops, a billowing cloud of smoke curled around their prickly limbs. Out there far, there were no places for a campfire. No places to set up refuge in down time; because all that was past the trees’ expanse was his home. The first he had since being pulled away from his parents’ cold arms. Heart hammering, he spun in a wild circle. Searching for eyes that sought to pry into his business. 

No one was near enough to see the flash of blue or hear the dissipating magic sizzle in the steady sputter of rain. As his feet hit the springy forest floor just outside of their humble clearing, the first thing that slammed into his senses was the overpowering smell of smoke. Golden apples and basket be damned; they hit the mud with a splat. 

Wet wood hissed to an abysmal simmer as the flames that apparently once engulfed the shop cried. Remnants. Smoldering remnants were all that remained. It wasn’t possible, unless through means of magic, to cause such destruction in the time that he had been gone. It wasn’t possible, and yet before him, the only place to regain love and trust had been leveled to ash and dust. Mildew and embers. He did not care if anyone saw him as he wisped into the village tavern with a painful bellow. 

“Please,” He cried, falling at the feet of the first patron he came to. “My home, my mother, please…” The figure cut him off with the grumble of a throat being cleared. It was a rumbling voice that beckoned him forward; commanded. However, a softness sat beneath it. 

“Young one,” The man said, “What troubles you?” Sehyoon lifted his gaze. Slowly; cautiously. Before him, a man with a brilliant smile stared back. His features sharp and cat-like, ears long and pointed; a high elf. Not only that, Sehyoon’s eyes fell onto the glittering crown settled at his brow, but elven royalty. Despite his position on the floor, he forced himself even lower until his chest hit the sticky, wooden panels. From this distance, the flooring smelled of beer and ale. “Rise, sweet one, I wouldn’t ask that of anyone.” Sehyoon obeyed. “Tell me now, what causes your strife?”

“My mother,” Sehyoon choked out, his fingers covering his mouth. “Fire magic took my home. It is gone and it appears my mother is too,” It came out as a broken sob. Desperate and exhausted. “Please help me find my mother.” The king did not speak. Instead, he motioned gently to his party. Around him, a group of five men rose from the table as coins hit the center in payment for the food and drink. 

The king’s palm settled on his cheek with a butterfly’s kiss. “You teleported here with magic, correct, song bird?” Sehyoon could only nod. “Can you take all of us to your home?” Easily. It would be exhausting, but he would do it. For Reiga. For home. 

“Yes, sire.” He held out his hands. “If two of you can grab on, the others can hold each other. It will be sudden.” They do as they are asked before the world lurched sideways. Boots slammed into the mud before the group was able to right themselves, but the smoke hit much faster. The smoldering remains of the shop littered the group unceremoniously. Beside Sehyoon, the closest member of the king’s entourage crumbled to the ground with a breathless cough. 

“Shit,” Another, this one a pink-haired elf, knelt next to the man– no, teenager’s– shaking form. “Byeongkwan, are you alright?” The other boy nodded carefully while the elf pulled him up by the elbows. From his back, downy, feathered wings extend a few times. His hair was long and plaited into two long pigtails. The ends of each looked to be dipped into pink and blue colorant. _How had Sehyoon not noticed him before?_ Truly, he had not paid any mind to the others. He watched as a black haired human reached down until the boy– Byeongkwan– grabbed hold of his palm. No words were exchanged between the three as they seemed to carefully right themselves. The king stood silently, surveying the destruction, before casting a look at his entourage. 

“Maddox,” The king said, his voice grave. To his left, a tall, but young, high elf straightened his position; mimicking royalty. It was then that Sehyoon saw stark resemblance between the boy and the adult. His son. “Take Chan and Junhee to stand sentry.” Before the teenager, Maddox, could protest, his father put a finger to his lips. “Dearest, please do not fight my orders. I believe we have company still in the area.”

Without another word, the young man nodded in the direction of the pink-haired elf and the human. His dark waves bounced just above the curve of his shoulders like storm clouds on the horizon. Even as the rain pittered around them, the group commanded attention. The king then turned to Sehyoon, his dark eyes full of gentleness, and gestured towards the pile of sizzling destruction. Voice low, he spoke again, “Might you lead the way, child? I do not wish to disrespect your lands with uncalculated steps.” Sehyoon stumbled slightly over his words; eyes wide.

“Your majesty, our lands hold no grace. We simply have built a home here. My worries befall upon my mother, not so much the home. A shelter can be rebuilt; a parent cannot,” Sehyoon remarked, but set forth towards the smoldering ashes with the soft crunch of boots. As they walked, Sehyoon glanced to the side, drawing the attention of the braided Fae. Though the boy still seemed quite out of it, he offered Sehyoon the gentlest of smiles. One that could make even the poorest caged birds sing a melody for the ages. The wisp could only pray that his face was not nearly as pink as it felt. 

Upon the cabin’s remains, the king knelt steadily. From his palms, a soft green glow began to emanate. He spread them above the charred wood, slowly, and closed his eyes with a certain drive. “It was indeed caused by magic force,” He looked to Sehyoon, whose eyes widened considerably, and held out a glowing hand. “Might I?” The young fae nodded, approaching the king carefully. As the hum of the spell worked its way through his nerves, he could feel each tendril of power flit and flicker. His eyes at some point had been tightly shut, as he found himself opening them just as the last of the king’s magic diminished from his soul. 

The man stared back at him, a brilliant smile coasting across his lips. “It seems she is still alive, small one. As I’m sure you know, spirits are tied together when magic is shared. You and I, for instance, now share that bond. Likewise, you hold quite a bit of your mother’s.” One of the guards helped him back into a standing position. “Our only goal now is to find out where she went. I can feel her presence to the north; making me believe she was taken by horseback.” Sehyoon nodded, prepared to say his goodbyes and wisp after her on his own, but the king was already calling the sentries back to his side. “Do you feel well enough to teleport us after them?”

“You’re offering to help me find my mother?”

The pink haired elf laughed as he approached the group once again. His voice was sweet like honeysuckle as he said, “You thought that we would leave you to your own devices?” When Sehyoon did not respond, his face tucked into his hands in embarrassment, the elf made a bizarre croaking noise. “Has no one shown you respect?” The wisp shook his head, shame blanketing his features. “Well, friend, Avalonians do not do things halfway. You’re stuck with us until the job is done,” It was said with a grin; something Sehyoon rarely had thrown his way. 

He cast a quick look towards the pigtailed boy. “Will you be alright to travel again? You seemed to find difficulty with it last time.” 

The boy– Byeongkwan, he reprimands internally– nodded softly. His voice was quiet, as though he was afraid of scaring even himself, as he said, “I will be, thank you. I just did not mentally prepare myself well enough before.” He added a smile to the end. Something about the subtle gesture plucked at Sehyoon’s heartstrings. With careful grace, the wisp held out a hand. The warmth that radiated from Byeongkwan’s was like a thousand burning suns cast right upon the surface of his skin. Even so, the other boy was gentle; his fingers intertwining with Sehyoon’s as though they were the last petals on a bough of cherry blossoms. A single motion too abrupt could send them fluttering to the barren ground. Sehyoon, however, was not fragile. He squeezed right back, reaching for the king’s outstretched palm. 

Wisping again was taking a toll on his energy, that was definite, but the thought of Reiga’s safety overpowered his own self preservation. Above all, she was the caretaker that brought him care in a world he had believed long since abandoned the virtues of love. Above all, she was his family. His biological parents passed on the same fateful day that he was ripped from their still stiffening embrace. He had seen death, but with Reiga, he had been given mercy. 

By a coincidental streak of luck, tumbling from the thin air caught the kidnappers by surprise. Somehow, the king had pinpointed their location to a T. Before them, a group had set up a makeshift camp with a horse-drawn carriage. The carriage, however, was comparable to a jail cell. Even so, it seemed to catch the king off-guard as his leather boots slammed into the bed of fallen pine needles. Evidently, he had not expected to have the precise location. Or for the kidnappers to be so dense.

He gave a bark of laughter before drawing the sword from his belt. “This,” he said, something manic flashing in his eyes, “is the fun part, little sparrow.” Without another word, the man spun into the brunt of the action like a bat out of Hell. Rather than following him, the guards stood at a distance, regarding him calmly. 

“Aren’t you going to…” Sehyoon asked, a wild gesture towards the rabid king. His voice filtered off steadily, however, as he saw the elf make quick work of three attackers at once. He was not fighting to kill, Sehyoon realized, but he was aiming to incapacitate. He spun and spun, the victim’s Achilles’ tendons finding the brunt of the action. The king was a wonderful ally, it seemed, and the wisp found himself eternally glad to be on his side. At Sehyoon’s fading question, the prince only rolled his eyes with a grin. 

“My father is a tempest. Few have ever looked him in the eye.” Maddox held out a hand with a calm bow. “I feel as though introductions might be in order. Kim Maddox.” Sehyoon stuttered, the situation seeming ridiculous. They stood before a battlefield, yet the group appeared unperturbed.

“Sehyoon. I no longer have a surname.” 

Maddox nodded solemnly, understanding, before he turned to the others. “These are Avalon’s finest trainees for the Royal Guard. We call them Team A.C.E. It stands for Adventure Calling Emotions; they are adaptable to just about anything we throw their way.” The guards bowed carefully. “Park Junhee is the fearless leader,” He motioned to the pink-haired elf. “The lovely Selkie beside him is Lee Donghun.” Donghun offered him a wink as Maddox moved down the line. In the distance, the sound of clashing metal ricocheted through the clearing. 

“Are you alright, your highness?” Junhee called, quite obviously prepared to sprint to the king’s side. Instead, the older man just barked out a laugh. _Who could laugh in the face of death?_

“I’m exhilarated! Who expected–” He paused to parry a stray blade, “Who expected us to run into a challenge during a simple training camp!”

Unphased, Maddox rolled his eyes once more and continued through the introductions. “The human is Kang Yuchan; Chan for short. When he was spirited here, he had no recollection of his name in the mortal world. We only called him Chan because it was easier than saying ‘changeling’ every time we needed his attention.”

The black-haired human scoffed, “It was distasteful.” 

“It was _easy,_ ” Maddox mumbled, offering the human a shrug. “Chan is our magician. He’s a sorcerer in training and a damn good one at that. Finally, the dainty thing next to you is Kim Byeongkwan. My brother by all things but blood.” The long-haired fae committed to something that was a cross between a curtsy and a bow. “His mother rejected him at birth and my family took him under their wing.” 

“I told you to stop with the Hyter Sprite jokes, you gremlin,” Byeongkwan remarked, his pout obvious. “It’s annoying.”

“You’re annoying–”

“Please, do not bicker, my children,” The king’s voice made the group jump spectacularly. Despite the way crimson coated his cheeks, the rain mixing with the blood by the minute, he still appeared kind. Gentle, even. He stood beside them, sword sheathed, with a twinkle in his eye. “The threat is gone. I feel as though it would be in your mother’s best interest, little bird, to retrieve her without our herding. We will wait over here until you are able to explain the happenings to her. I can only assume how horrified she is.”

Sehyoon’s feet were moving before the royal had even finished speaking. The carriage was locked from the outside, but only with a simple padlock that his limited magic could undo within seconds. As the metal clambered onto the ground, he heard the soft rustling from inside. Following it was a quiet voice, “Hello?” _Reiga_. The door had only just been thrown open when the two fell together in a tearful embrace. The future of their home could wait; for they had each other.

As it happened, there was no need to fear for shelter. A single glance towards Reiga showed the king all he needed to know. Within three quick strides, he fell to her side in a kneeling bow. “Madam, might I ask you and your son to return to Avalon with us?”

“Pardon?” Reiga asked, her voice hardly finding its footing. “Why would you request our presence in your kingdom, your highness?” The king smiled brilliantly, extending a hand. 

“Sehyoon has a drive that I have not often seen in someone his age. I would love to have him train along with my sons and their royal guard.” He paused for a moment, sizing up both Reiga and Sehyoon’s dumbfound expressions. “Not to mention, the magic radiating from your spirit is strong. My dear Chan could always use medicinal education.” It was only seconds before Reiga tumbled into Sehyoon’s awaiting arms. They had lost their shelter, but found paradise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, loves! I hope you enjoyed this little chapter. I will be back with more in a few days (I have half of the work written). It's wild to be back in the WWBTEWL world, but I missed it. Also, I hope my previous readers are enjoying the cameos.
> 
> Find me on Twitter, Insta, and CuriousCat: @KyojinOuji
> 
> I love new friends and always follow back.
> 
> Cheers!


	2. Silhouette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Violence

> _ “Let’s go out in flames so everyone knows who we are. _
> 
> _ 'Cause these city walls never knew that we'd make it this far. _
> 
> _ We've become echoes, but echoes are fading away. _
> 
> _ So, let's dance like two shadows, burning out a glory day.” _
> 
> **_Silhouette_ ** _ \- Aquilo _
> 
> * * *

“Do you ever regret it?” The voice came from somewhere within the darkness. As Sehyoon forced his form to roll over, the speaker moved closer. It’s just enough that their warm breath brushed over his cheeks like the spring breeze. “Coming here, I mean.”

Hongjoong had never been a loud person. He was a shy prince that wanted nothing more than to avoid the crown entirely. Sehyoon hoped that he would get his wish. More than anything, he dreamed that the boy could find happiness somewhere. Anywhere. Instead of responding, the wisp wrapped his arms around the red-haired elf’s small figure; pulling him tight to his chest. It was silent for only a few brief seconds before the boy was speaking again. This time, the pout was more obvious. Determination was a virtue that the royal had always possessed while patience most certainly was not.

“Sehyoon, tell me honestly, do you regret it?” 

“Joongie, you know I could not lie to you even if I wanted to.” The prince had been like a little brother to him since the moment he set foot in the castle corridors. Like a chick, Hongjoong clung to him like he was afraid of getting lost in the same halls he had walked his entire life. Even if Fae could lie, he would never even attempt it with the boy. “The castle gives my life purpose. You,” He rolled over until he was able to poke the prince’s nose, “give my life a purpose.” Hongjoong giggled quietly, burrowing his face into Sehyoon’s neck. It would be another long night of holding the royal through his nightmares. The community said that one day, the elf may have the ability to become an oracle. The wisp prayed daily that that future would not be one to come true. Hongjoong had enough to worry about without the threat of seeing the world’s end.

By morning, Hongjoong had already snuck out of the guards’ quarters. Sehyoon never dwelled on the boy’s sudden appearances in his bed. Maddox no longer allowed his younger brother to enter his chambers. Whether it was due to his age or the possible need for private meetings with unnamed suitors, Sehyoon never asked. Instead, the young prince would wake trembling with dreams he could not fathom reiterating. The other guards would slip questions in his direction. However, Hongjoong had always known Sehyoon would not. It was better to let the terrors run their course than to pry them out of the boy by force. In time, the elf would sidle up to him at the breakfast table and tell him bits of what he had seen. Trust was something that had to be built and the wisp knew that better than anyone.

On days that Hongjoong was not crowding him, when not tasked with protecting the princes with an eagle-eye, he spent his hours in the castle orchards. Soaking up the Avalonian sun while surveying the growth of the fruit-bearing trees was oddly relaxing. It was as though time stood still among their curling branches. Those were the days he loved the most. 

Though, once in a while, Byeongkwan would emerge from the castle walls by his side. His long braids hit the dip of his waist and his eyes haunted by years of missions. They would toss stories into the night; until their duty as guards called them back inside. Once, they fell asleep during a makeshift picnic. Those were the nights Sehyoon longed for. Yet, they were far out of reach.

Byeongkwan had been sent away on a month-long journey to the kingdom of Grenumar. While returning, the carriage bearing the Grenumarian prince, Park Seonghwa, had been overturned by bandits. All of the guards that accompanied his party had been wiped clean. Byeongkwan, however, was left alive to watch their bodies, dismantled, fall one by one into a nearby ravine. 

The bandits— human poets trapped in the Tír na nÓg for far too long— then staged a game of cat and mouse. They released Seonghwa into the woods and chased him relentlessly. They had wanted to butcher them both, Byeongkwan later confessed. He had overheard the kidnappers state that they wished to cut off their wings and hang them on their cabin walls as proof of besting the Fae. 

Byeongkwan only managed to draw help by screaming until his voice was hollow. By the time they found Seonghwa, cast aside like a ragdoll, his wings had been nearly severed from his spine; the nerves damaged beyond use. The fourteen year-old prince would never fly again. And yet, he held the grace and power of a full-fledged king as he bowed in thanks before the Hyter Sprite.

“If not for you, Kim Byeongkwan, I would never have lived to see another sunrise,” the boy had said. It was a soft spoken phrase, one that should have made the guard proud. Instead, he only felt empty. Lost. A drop in an ocean of emotions he couldn’t seem to wrap his fingers around.

When he came home to Avalon, the first thing Byeonkwan did was use his blade to cut his long braids almost at their base. The next was that he threw himself at Sehyoon; tremoring with full-bodied sobs. From that point forth, the two had something unspoken. An unbreakable bond that rivaled the glory of the sun and all her stars.

Maybe it was to comfort the sprite. Or maybe it was to cover up some part of his past; the memory of his beginning. But Sehyoon stood before the mirror of the guards’ shared bathroom and watched as his platinum blonde hair turned to a glowing green beneath the dye. That night, when he stumbled from seclusion, he watched Byeongkwan stare between his hair and his hands stained with pigment before once again throwing his arms around Sehyoon.

They fell back into a routine after that. Hongjoong emerging from Sehyoon’s bed after finding himself desperate for rest and Sehyoon sticking to Byeongkwan like glue. And just as every other morning, Sehyoon settled into the mess hall with a yawn. Beside him, Byeongkwan cast a soft smile and filled the wisp’s cup with hot water for lavender tea. Across the table, Junhee paused in the middle of buttering a slice of toasted sweet bread. Before the man even opened his mouth, Sehyoon already knew to prepare for the worst.

“Why don’t you two just propose already?”  _ There it was. _ Junhee set his knife back onto the table. With a pop, he shoved half of the toast into his mouth. And yet, the annoying grin did not leave. “‘S’lnd’t be th’hard.”

Next to him, Chan slapped at his shoulder. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. That’s disgusting.” When Jun responded by sticking his tongue out, Chan screeched and beat at his arm with more aggression. “You’re our leader! Act like it.” Beside them, Donghun laughed, brown hair bouncing with every movement. Chan immediately whirled on the Selkie as well. 

Byeongkwan, however, froze with the suggestion. It was not uncommon for the Hyter Sprite to tense at the mention of romance. Instead, his attention fell onto the fraying edge of his tunic. His nimble fingers worked on the loose hem until the conversation drifted to the apple-blossom honey that had appeared on the table. Sehyoon did not let the action go unnoticed, however, as he felt his own fingers intertwine with Byeongkwan’s beneath the table. It was as easy as breathing; holding the other man’s hand. Byeongkwan relaxed into the touch until Donghun flew at the table with fervor.

“King needs to see us,” he panted, snatching a stray oat muffin from the tin on the table. “We have an emergency mission. Sehyoon, he said you’re leading this time.”

“You already know?” The wisp asked, pulling both himself and Byeongkwan from the bench. Byeongkwan struggled to inhale the remaining bite of his breakfast as they started to walk. “Why me?”

Donghun shrugged as he threw open the mess hall’s wooden door. “No clue, he just said it was your shoulders this time.” The selkie threw him a wink. “It’s not like you’ve never led before.”

“I’m supposed to be the leader always,” Jun whined. It was not uncommon for someone else to swap roles with him for the time being. However, it was bizarre to have little warning.  _ An emergency mission. _ It would be the first urgent case for him to be thrown into the role.

Sehyoon’s heart hammered an uncomfortable song as the group stood before the king’s private study. Three knocks and a whistle led to the intricate swing of the door’s creaky hinges. Behind it, the Avalonian king ushered them inside. The elf thrust a hip against his desk, forcing his weight against it, and frowned. 

“Is it safe to assume Donghun gave you all the general run down?” The group nodded in silence. “Wonderful.” His hands fluttered above the desk’s surface before he located whatever sheet of parchment he was searching for. “I received a letter from the King of Grenumar.” Speaking the name into existence seems to act as a spell for Byeongkwan’s resolve to fizzle. Without making a sound, the sprite reached for Sehyoon’s hand until their fingers were securely wrapped around each other. “Byeongkwan, it seems that the human poets who made the attempt on Prince Seonghwa and your lives have been seen once again in the southern reaches of Bylea. We were contacted due to your involvement, as well as, the A.C.E.’s ability. Grenumar and Bylea both are requesting backup in apprehending the attackers. However,” He paused until his warm gaze landed on Sehyoon. “We have found another connection to you all. Sehyoon, I am asking you to lead this mission as a chance for revenge.”

The words took the wisp off-guard. Even before the explanation was offered, he felt the Earth began to shift horribly. The icy chill of terror danced down his spine. Yet, he still found himself asking, “What do you mean, sire?”

“The leader of the group has been identified as a poacher by the name of Jatue,” the king’s words hit his chest like one arrow after another. Suddenly, it had become impossible to pull any air into his lungs. Thoughts of iron and stale bread flooded his memory like a wall of brick and thunder. “I assumed you would like first pick at this mission. Consider it a catharsis, if you will.” Sehyoon did not blink. Instead, he forced himself to draw one breath. And then another. Finally, he was able to utter the one phrase that he knew could be his redemption or his unbecoming.

“I’ll do it.”

The mission was simple. The poachers had set up camp in a small Bylean village and were operating under the guise of traveling merchants. A.C.E. was to act the role of adventurers sent to fulfill a small-scale kingdom’s prophecy. Their goal was to infiltrate the camp while they were using the village as a pitstop. It was supposed to be simple, and yet, Sehyoon found his heart plummeting the moment they set foot on the town’s soil.

“Are you alright?” Byeongkwan asked, concern blanketing his features. The wisp could only nod and take one step after another. One foot, the other, and repeat. It was supposed to be simple, but the air once again did not find its place in his heavily constricting lungs. Before he could even begin to play his part, he was on the ground. His body trembling with silent sobs as the Hyter Sprite collapsed next to him. His voice was soft as he whispered, “You don’t have to be okay, Sehyoon.” The other man pulled him to his chest. His fingers found their way into his hair easily as he pressed gentle circles into the tender flesh. 

Sehyoon did not notice Chan’s hands as the human worked to heal the small scratches that developed when he hit the Earth. His attention, instead, fell onto the ministrations of the sprite. After what felt like a decade, Byeongkwan’s touch left him just long enough to help him back to his feet. His friend spoke quietly, promises only meant for the two of them, as he said, “I’m not a mind reader, but I am yours. Tell me when things go awry within your heart for I cannot see them always.” He pressed a kiss to Sehyoon’s forehead before the group began to move towards their target. The wisp could not help the way his heart rate sped at the interaction. Byeongkwan had never called him his. They had never touched intimately, nor shared the softest of kisses on cheeks or foreheads, and it was a whirlwind of new emotion. Something unearthed by change and unspoken in the darkest of winter nights. It was entirely Byeongkwan.

The moment that they entered the camp, the night had just settled over them. The skies had grown inky black and the only source of light emanated from the still burning coals of the fire. The poachers, drunk and belligerent, were sprawled in various locations across the space. Some still warming their toes by the flickering embers, others passed out by the logs they had been using as stools. Four tents had been placed around the clearing, but none appeared to be occupied. It was the perfect setting for an ambush. 

Chan, using his own talents, had cloaked the guards with a glamor. It would not reduce the sound that they made as they surveyed the camp, however, it allowed them to move unseen unless an outside force disrupted it. Sehyoon used that to his advantage. One by one, he wisped the guards into separate tents. Each time, he fought the sheer terror that they would encounter children in the same position that he once was, but the issue did not prove to be fruitful. Even the covered wagon, the same he recognized as being his old prison, was uncharacteristically empty. It meant they were too late for whatever batch of Fae they had just pawned off. The thought rolled his stomach. 

The sign for ambush was simple. Chan would send a green flare from the entrance of the tent that he was stationed in. The group would then close in on the poachers from the outside. In case of emergency, they would drive the poachers over the edge of the nearby ravine. It was a relatively easy execution and would end in a number of arrests. So long as the poachers did not touch the guards, the glamour would remain secure, and they would not be revealed to the human eye. However, the moment the green light took hold of the camp, something went off course.

At first, all was well. From the corner of his eye, Sehyoon watched Byeongkwan as he engaged in hand-to-hand combat with one of the few poachers he recognized from his own nightmares. While he knew Byeongkwan was glamoured, something painful scratched at the back of his mind. An incandescent memory that insisted he listen. And so he pulled at the red thread seemingly binding the thought far in the back of his mental recesses. He tugged until it all came loose. The memories piled up like file folders and old leather bound books filled with a great wealth of information.

Uria was Fae. The man was smaller than Jatue and the wisp vaguely recalled his name to be Uria. This particular individual brought him water on the nights he woke up screaming. Uria was Fae and he could see past the glamour Chan had created to defend against the humans. Even as Sehyoon’s own blade, unseen but forceful, drove through the neck of an unnamed human, he felt the terror spread through his limbs. Even as he nearly dropped his own sword and charged to Byeongkwan’s side, he felt that icy neon drip of panic. 

Uria saw him then, charging to the sprite’s side, and seemingly pieced two and two together. With a wicked grin, Uria locked eyes with Seyhoon. It was then that his outstretched fingers wrapped around Byeongkwan’s wrist. In a second, the glamour dropped. The entire camp took notice of the guard. Within moments, Sehyoon’s cast off his own spell, trying desperately to draw the attention of the poachers elsewhere. A.C.E. picked up on the action immediately, following suit, and tried to move closer to the two, but were barricaded by the remaining humans. 

“Welcome back, pretty.” Uria pushed his blade forward until it thrust itself through Byeongkwan’s side. The wisp did not hear the piercing scream that tore from his throat. He could only process the way his own sword slid through Uria’s neck like honey butter. He could only see the way a red, liquid flower bloomed through Byeongkwan’s dark uniform.  _ Blood _ . Even as Jatue grabbed his wrist and pulled him backwards until his chest slammed into the bark of a nearby tree, he did not feel what was truly happening. Only one thought echoed in his mind:  _ I was the leader. _

Later, Junhee told him that the blue flash that lit up the camp when Sehyoon teleported Jatue to the edge of the ravine was blinding. He did not tell him the things the man said as he pleaded for his life before a merciless god. Fae, after all, were ruthless. Jun only recalled the way Sehyoon cradled Byeongkwan in the center of a crimson massacre. One well deserved, but no less gruesome. Sehyoon wisped them home in an instant, screaming for medics, and truly overdramatizing the situation tenfold. Once he was awake, Byeongkwan laughed and laughed at the story. 

“It was just a scratch, starshine,” the sprite said, pressing a soft kiss to Sehyoon’s cheek. “He hardly punctured anything vital.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, loves! Thank you for reading! I'm uploading both this chapter and the final one at the same time, so I apologize for the double update. 
> 
> Find me on Twitter, Insta, and CuriousCat: @KyojinOuji
> 
> I love new friends and always follow back.
> 
> Cheers!


	3. Plenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue following the events of WWBTEWL.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Death mention

> _ “All the pleasures that you paid for. _
> 
> _ All the skipped turns that you saved for. _
> 
> _ All the nights you fell asleep without your gun. _
> 
> _ A coronation, a beheading, _
> 
> _ From the funeral to the wedding; _
> 
> _ Do you think they care where the crown goes?” _
> 
> **_Plenty_ ** _ \- Aeseaes _
> 
> * * *

How does one come to live when their friends falter with every step? How does one find happiness while it seems wreckage is the default? It was impossible not to fall in love. Between the rows of golden apple trees and in the breeze as winter turned to spring, love was the song that whispered its sweet nothings in the midnight sun. How does one ask for more when they have already received all?

Byeongkwan did not push him. Nothing about their relationship was built by force. The feather light kisses and the tender caresses were passed between them like a melody. But it was never something they wished for the royal family to know. Nor did they truly want the other guards to find out. It was for them and nothing more. Perhaps that was why, when Maddox sat down with them for lunch and asked how long they had been together, the two simply gaped at the prince. 

“Were you hiding it?” Maddox asked, a smile gracing his delicate features. “I don’t think you were, personally.” He said it with a laugh. The same way one would tell a joke, not holding the threatening weight of putting a word to what they had been doing, and full of joy rather than anger. Maybe, that was why Byeongkwan was the first to recover.

“Not purposefully, no.” It was a sheepish admission. “We just didn’t want to take away from the other castle gossip.” Maddox guffawed at that, drawing the attention of every other person in the cantine. “Your highness–”

Maddox shot the sprite a look. “You know how I feel about formalities, Byeongkwan. You’re like my brother.” He glanced at Sehyoon then, full of appreciation and love. “Which would make you my brother-in-law.” As he pushed himself from the table, the boy chuckled to himself. “Invite me to the wedding, alright?”

No one had told them that four empty chairs would grace the tables of the reception. As Sehyoon surveyed the location, his gaze fell instantly upon them. “These are…?”

“For our parents,” Hongjoong said, a tearful smile flickering over his face. He had aged beautifully. Even after the events of ten years prior. A coronation. A wedding. Even after the adoption of his son. Even after so much death. After he lost everything only to gain so much more in return. Sehyoon watches the elf he set out to protect all those years ago be pulled into a tender embrace against Seonghwa’s chest. Yes, age looks good on them. “Welcome to the family, Kim Sehyoon. It’s not as though you weren’t already, but a formal event is always nice.” It is said with humor, but the king’s voice cracks spectacularly beneath it.

Years before, the king who saved Sehyoon passed away untimely. Both he and his wife fell victim to the wrath of staff who no longer cared for his policies. Sehyoon’s gaze flickers to the remaining two seats. While they could just as easily be for his biological parents, he immediately knows that they are not. He could not recall their faces no matter how hard he tried. However…

“Maddox?” Hongjoong nods. “And Eden?” His voice crumbles beneath the weight of his words. Maddox, who never would receive an invitation to the wedding, was still given a place. His grave sat just outside the apple orchard; beside that of his own lover. However, just as he had done for the wisp, the elf once again had a space at their table and sat before him in spirit. “Thank you, Joongie.” He presses a soft kiss to the king’s cheek before repeating the action to Seonghwa’s. The husbands smile brilliantly before nodding towards someone behind him. It is a slow turn, but as he does so, his gaze meets the loving eyes of a particular sprite. Byeongkwan steps forward, arms winding around Sehyoon’s waist, as he pushes their foreheads together. 

“It’s our wedding and yet I feel as though you are avoiding me.” 

“I have the rest of our lives to avoid you. Why would I waste tonight doing it?” The wisp captures Byeongkwan’s lips carefully. It’s a chaste kiss. Sweet as nectar and full of warmth. Tonight is a night for memory, though, and as he pulls away, Sehyoon knows that Byeongkwan feels the same way. They watch in the distance as a red-haired Chan slams a plate full of lemon cake into Donghun’s face. Beside the two beasts, their fearless leader cackles with a bell’s twinkle. 

“When do you think they’ll finally admit to their feelings?” Byeongkwan whispers against the shell of his ear. Sehyoon can only shake his head at the question. If they were lucky, the three never would. The world could not handle the madness that came with the trio finally making sense of their own emotions. However, life was so infinitesimal. It paid to listen to the heart’s quiet melodies. To dance in the rain and brush soft petals with one’s fingertips. Sometimes, it was worth simply living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, loves! It was incredibly fun revisiting the world of WWBTEWL. Obviously, this was centered on the A.C.E. portion of the universe, but I will be back sometime with things for Yeosang/Jongho, Mingi/Yunho, and of course, San/Wooyoung. Until then, I'll be back with some more ATEEZ AUs. I feel more comfortable writing those and definitely only like to revisit WWBTEWL after I finish something heavy.
> 
> Find me on Twitter, Insta, and CuriousCat: @KyojinOuji
> 
> I love new friends and always follow back.
> 
> Cheers!  
> \- Baz


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